We Live in Awkward Times, My Friend
by Rockstar with a Vendetta
Summary: A series of awkward situations in which her friends discover Kel has been...intimate with someone. Being as nosy as they are, they then proceed to embarrass her on their quest to discover who has "conquered" the unconquerable lady knight.
1. Charm

**Let me straighten out how this works: in each chapter, I will pick a different character with whom Kel has had relations with, so to speak. And then all the interesting ways which her friends discover it. None of these chapters are related - Kel's not being a slut, I'm simply exploring different pairings. ;) My goal is to pair her with as many characters as possible. This first chapter is dedicated to ****abyssgirl****.**

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"If you don't want children, then just don't bed her."

Nealan pivoted sharply, poked a long finger in his short, plump companion's chest, and said, "You, my friend, have never sounded so unmarried in your entire life. Which, might I add, Jesslaw, is all of it."

"Not for long," Owen countered cheerfully, unruffled by the older man's snippet. "Margarry and I are getting married in just two months' time."

"I still can't believe you're wedding a Cavall," Faleron muttered, shaking his head. "It's almost absurd."

"It's not absurd," Owen frowned. "She likes dogs and horses—"

"—as much as you do," Neal finished dryly. "Trust me, we know."

"_I'm_ happy for you, Owen."

"Thanks, Kel."

"Mindelan, don't encourage him."

Keladry eyed her very redheaded friend. "He's making a decision to spend the rest of his life with one person, Merric. Forever. That's a huge thing. I'm proud of him." She absentmindedly touched her pregnancy charm through her shirt.

"Gods, Kel," Neal groaned dramatically. "You make it sound so bad."

"I don't mean it to," she retorted, irriated. "Besides, you're happy with Yuki, aren't you?"

"Well, sure," he said. "That doesn't mean I want to be reminded of the fact I made a huge life-altering decision to spend the rest of my life with one person."

_Funny_, she thought in wry amusement. _He went from being typical Neal to being moody whenever she wasn't around to being, well, back to Neal. It's a good thing she understands him, or at least as much as anyone can understand him_.

"Exactly why are we here again?" Seaver suddenly asked.

Indeed, it was a fairly good question. The five of them were following Neal down the unmarked streets of Corus. Although none of them really knew where they were going, the older man seemed to have a grasp on his bearings, because he was strutting confidently around shops and stalls. They trailed after him like lost little ducklings.

"I told you," Neal said, "I want to buy a pregnancy charm for Yuki."

"That explains why you're here," Faleron pointed out, "but I fail to see why you dragged us here."

"I asked Kel to come with me," he grumped. "I didn't ask you guys. You just came with us."

"Yeah," Kel said slowly, "why _did_ you ask me along, anyway?"

"Because you're a girl," he explained. "I knew you would give me moral support."

"For _what_?" Merric asked irritably, dodging an overturned melon cart. "You're buying a pregnancy charm for your wife. It's perfectly natural. I don't know why you had to bring Kel along. What is she going to do, test it out for you? Why didn't you just ask your father for one? Or make one yourself? You're a healer."

"Merric," Kel began, a little angrily.

But Neal, glaring, interrupted and said, "If I asked my father for one, he'd just tell Mother, and then I'd have to hear their long spiel about how long they've been waiting for grandchildren. I feel weird making one myself because I feel like I'm killing my own children. And I asked Kel here because—because I wanted her to buy it for me."

Faleron choked. "Are you saying that you're scared to buy a pregnancy charm?"

"I'm not scared," Neal snapped, flushing as Seaver and Owen snickered behind him. "I just didn't want to buy one."

"Yeah." Faleron rolled his eyes. "Okay."

"Here we are," Neal proclaimed loudly.

They all stopped in front of a small, neat shop, almost hidden between two large bead shops. The windows and doorway were dark. It didn't seem shady, but you never really knew what kind of shops people set up on the streets of Corus.

"This is it?" Owen said doubtfully. "We followed you all the way down here for this?"

"I told you, you didn't have to," Neal said, annoyed. He started through the door.

"It's not like any of us had anything better to do," Faleron pointed out dryly.

They all followed Neal doubtfully through the door. Inside, it was dim but not as dark as it outwardly seemed. A couple lanterns were lit around the small room. It smelled of incense, but not strongly—a pleasant, strange scent of something like honeysuckle. There were charms hanging from rafters, with jewelry and sticks of incense neatly arranged on shelves. It was actually pretty, it an unassuming way.

"How did you find this?" Merric asked, a little awed.

"The Lioness _is_ a healer," Neal told him. "She showed me some things when I served her every whim. And this is out of the way. There's no way it can get back to Father, so I don't have to listen to his and Mother's woeful grandchild speech."

"I recognize that voice," someone said quietly. "Unfortunately."

That startled a snort out of Kel, earning her a nasty look from Neal.

"And he's brought friends." A woman appeared around a tall bookshelf. She was unassuming, dressed in plain attire with dark hair streaked with silver. "I hope they're quieter than this one."

"You'll be hard-pressed to find someone who isn't," Owen quipped.

She smiled. "So, Neal, what brings you to my shop?"

He glanced hopefully at Kel. She stared resolutely back. He sighed, then said, "I need a—charm."

The healer arched an eyebrow and said, "For the newly married knight? I understand. Here." She plucked one seemingly at random and offered it to him, adding, "I imported the ribbon from the Yamani Islands. Your bride will appreciate it, I think."

Neal smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you. How much?"

As he dug around his purse for some coins, the boys looked around at all the merchandise. Kel watched them and said, "Just don't touch anything. Remember what happened last time you guys were around breakables…?

"I still put that on Owen," Merric scowled. "If he had just kept his hands off that glass bowl—"

"It doesn't matter who did it," Kel interjected as Owen opened his mouth to retort, "just that it happened."

And then the healer said, "Milady, when did you get that pregnancy charm?"

Kel fought a blush as her friends stared at her. She touched it again through her shirt. She was sexless to them; the fact she had a charm seemed to douse that theory. "I think sixteen," she admitted, avoiding Neal's intense gaze.

"You need a new one," the woman said matter-of-factly. "The magic's gone."

"G-Gone?" Merric sputtered. "How does a pregnancy charm just go bad?"

"Usually after ten years or so, it kind of wears off," she explained. She was staring at Kel with an eerily knowing look. "But you can't be more than—what, eighteen? Nineteen?"

"Then how would it have gone bad?" Kel asked in a strained voice.

The healer was fiddling with some hanging charms. She didn't look at her when she said carefully, "Well, sometimes charms will lose its protection against pregnancy if the wearer has been having a lot of sex at one time. Like all day."

Something crashed behind her, but Kel didn't even blink. She stared at the back of the woman's head, wishing she could crawl under the floor. She was distinctly aware of several pairs of eyes focusing disbelievingly on her. Even her Yamani training deserted her, not that she blamed it; this was a situation quite out of her control. Her face felt like it was on fire, but her fingers felt cold. She watched helplessly on as the healer politely excused herself to a back room, leaving Kel at the mercy of her prying friends.

"I'm married," Neal began blankly, "to a beautiful woman, mind you, and I have yet to experience the joy of all-day sex. Tell me, what does it take? "

"I don't know what she's talking about," Kel blustered. But her mask was broken. They didn't believe a word of it.

"Goddess, Kel," Owen said, awed, "that's some stamina—"

"_Aargh_," Faleron choked. "I don't want to hear about that—"

"The fact you're having sex at all surprises me, frankly, I don't know how you find the time—"

"_Neal_—"

"What Kel does in her private time is her own business," Seaver said carefully. She shot a grateful look at him, but he didn't see it; he was staring bemusedly at the wall.

"Who is it?" Owen asked curiously.

"No one," she muttered. "Really, I don't know what she's talking about."'

"Do we know him?"

"Ye—no."

"Ha!" Neal pointed a finger at her almost accusingly. "We do, don't we? Is he a knight? Oh, gods, if it's Garvey, we'll need to have a talk—"

"It most certainly _isn't_ Garvey," Kel replied, annoyed. "At least, it wouldn't be."

"We know, Kel," Faleron informed her kindly. "Please, stop pretending. You're not fooling anyone."

"If it's my cousin, I swear, I'll kill him."

"You mean _Dom_?"

"Oh, it is," Neal groaned, clutching at his chest. "I can see it in your face. It's not enough to bed half the palace, he had to make a go at my best friend. Stay away from him, Kel, he's a bad egg."

"It's not Dom." She rolled her eyes, trying to get a grasp on the situation. "Really, you guys, it's not a big deal. Can we just change the subject? Please?"

"Is that why you were absent from supper yesterday?" Seaver gasped.

"Hey," Faleron said slowly, "you weren't at midday meal, either."

"Or breakfast," Owen chimed in.

"Come to think of it, you weren't even at supper the day before yesterday," Neal said. He shuddered.

Owen said, "If he's a knight or palace official, we can figure out who wasn't in the mess hall the same time as Kel…"

"…thus figuring out who she's been wearing out that cursed charm of hers with," Neal finished triumphantly. "The process of elimination."

"Why does it matter?" Kel all but begged. "Owen, please—Neal—"

"As repulsive as I find prying into your business," Neal said, "as your best friends, it's our duty to make sure you don't get involved with the wrong sort."

"I can look out for myself," she snapped. _Once they start with the elimination_, she thought with a sick feeling, _they'll figure it out, and there goes our low-profile relationship…_

"Did you and Cleon—?" Faleron began with narrowed eyes.

"No," she said loudly.

Seaver looked very pale. "This is not how I thought this day would go," he said to no one. "Really, I don't want to know about anybody's love life."

"Who wasn't at meals the same time she wasn't?" Neal mused.

"Wyldon wasn't there for supper," Faleron supplied, looking like he was about to faint.

"Oh, but he was there for breakfast," Owen reassured him.

Neal asked quickly, "Did anyone see Garvey?"

"What's with your creepy obsession with Kel and Garvey?"

"It's not an '_obsession_.'"

"Numair…"

"Master Oakbridge…"

"Zahir…"

"Yancen…"

"Alanna…"

"Really, Seaver, she's sexually active, not insane."

"This has gone on _quite_ eno—"

"Merric…"'

Suddenly, everything went very quiet. Kel covered her face with her hands, determined never to look at anything ever again. In spite of herself, she peeked through her fingers. Just in time, apparently, to watch as Neal's head slowly, oh so slowly, turned in Merric's direction. Soon, Owen, Faleron, and Seaver followed suit. She couldn't help it; she glanced helplessly at him as well.

Merric had blushed so red his face outshone his hair, which was saying something. He was doggedly staring at the ceiling, effectively cutting off any eye contact. She watched as the flush traveled down his neck and disappeared under his tunic. She knew for a fact that when he got nervous or otherwise…excited…he got red all over…

_Not now_, Kel ordered herself. _When all this is over, you can skip supper again_.

The thought of what would happen if she said that out loud surprised a small giggle out of her. Instantly, their heads whipped around to glare fiercely at her. She wiped the smile off her face.

"Merric," Owen said, stunned. "I didn't even think it would be a year-mate."

"Apparently, she has a thing for redheads," Seaver observed.

"It's not a redhead thing," Kel protested.

"Way to go, cousin," Faleron said slyly, nudging Merric in his side. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"I had to play the elimination game," Neal muttered glumly.

They all shared a moment of incredibly uncomfortable silence before Kel could finally say, "Now, will you please, please drop it? And don't tell anyone. We didn't—don't want this to get out."

"Anything you say," Seaver said hastily, tripping over himself in his hurry to exit.

"Not a problem," Owen agreed on his way out, pausing only to pick up some jewelry scattered on the floor.

Faleron only shook his head, chortling as he followed Owen out. Neal sighed as the healer suddenly reappeared. She said airily, "This is an extra-strong charm, made for those more amorous than others."

Kel fumbled for her purse. Neal sighed again, a little more heavily, and flipped the healer a coin. "This one's on me. And don't argue. This is my apology for interrupting your shenanigans."'

"So mote it be," Merric finally said sarcastically.

Neal scowled as he passed him.

The healer once again disappeared into the back room without a word. Kel wondered suspiciously how much she heard before.

"So," Merric drawled, more comfortable now that it was just them, "care to try out that new charm of yours?"

"I might have seen an inn on the way here," she offered innocently.

He said, with a crooked smile, "Lead the way, lady knight."

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"Where's Kel?" Esmond asked as he set his tray down beside Faleron.

Seaver took an extra big swallow of his water and gagged.

"For future reference," Neal said, stabbing some asparagus with his fork, "if she's not at this table, don't mention her name. Ever."

Esmond eyed them suspiciously and said, "Well then, where's Merric?"

"Esmond," Faleron sighed, setting down his tankard, "just don't speak. Ever."

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**Please review!**


	2. Bath

**Well, second chapter up! I was so excited at all the reviews. I didn't think it would be such a hit. Thanks, guys!**

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Another crumpled ball of paper bounced forlornly on the floor to join the rest of the pile. Nealan tapped his fingers nervously on the desk before pulling another sheet of parchment toward him. Without looking up from his book, Faleron murmured pointedly, "It's getting late, Neal."

"I know that," Neal muttered with a scowl in his direction. He turned his attention to his window. Sunset had already passed. He bit his fingernails.

"So," Faleron continued, still not looking up, "what are you going to do?"

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" his older companion accused.

"Immensely," he replied without hesitation. "It reminds me how, in spite of the fact you have three years on me, I still have more sense than you."

"You hardly have more sense."

"You don't see me writing bad poetry for my wife's birthday, which, principally speaking, is in four hours."

"That's because you're not married," Neal said haughtily.

"And if you give Yuki your poetry, you won't be either," Faleron retorted. "What a horrible birthday this is going to be for her."

It was very quiet for a moment. Then, Neal asked mournfully, "Is my poetry really that bad?"

Merric sighed and closed his own book. He had tactfully refrained from any reply during the exchange, but found he could not hold his tongue at this and said, "I didn't want to be the one to tell you, but your poetry borders on horrifying."

"Yuki doesn't mind it," Neal shot back grumpily, his pride slightly injured.

"She's sparing you," Faleron informed him kindly.

"Okay," Neal declared loudly, "fine. No poetry. I get the point. What do I do then? Yuki's birthday is tomorrow. If I don't get her something, I'll be a bachelor once again, this time with a four-month-old marriage up my sleeve."

Faleron rolled his eyes at this dramatic speech and returned to his book. Merric said practically, "Why don't you ask Kel? She and Yuki are close, she's a girl, and she knows you well enough that she's probably already told Yuki not to expect anything mind-blowing."

"I'll ignore that last bit," Neal told him, "but only because the general idea is a pretty good one." He rose from his chair and stretched. "Will you help me find Kel?"

"She's probably just in her rooms," Faleron pointed out.

"Kel's never in her rooms before bedtime," Neal rolled his eyes. "It's like blasphemy to her. Gods forbid she rest for an hour. If I've told her once, I've told her a thousand times, she'll be seeing a healer every day if she doesn't slow down—"

"Alright," Merric exploded. "We'll go, just shut up."

"We?" Faleron asked. His cousin glared at him and he sighed, closing his book. "Fine. This is Kel's book, anyway. I might as well return it to her."

* * *

"I can't believe we haven't found Kel yet," Neal blurted. "She's the easiest person to find. All you have to do is look for the tallest person in a room. It's usually her."

The mess hall was almost deserted. Only a few stragglers remained, and Kel was not among them.

"I can't believe we're still looking for her," Merric grumbled.

"With you," Faleron added.

Neal stared at him. "You are being unusually malignant this evening," he said.

"I wasted almost an hour looking for someone who clearly does not want to be found," Faleron said dryly. "That's almost an hour in your company."

Neal threw his hands in the air. "I have been the brunt of so many jokes this evening. It's incredible."

"Don't get us wrong," Merric said. "You're an okay sort. Just not when you have marriage problems."

"Cleon would probably know," Faleron said suddenly, nodding toward a large redheaded figure across the room.

"Wait, no—"

"Kennan! Come here a second!"

"You dolt," Neal hissed out of the corner of his mouth, beaming widely as Cleon made toward them. "They're not together anymore."

Faleron looked shocked. "For how long?" he muttered.

"Months," Merric sighed. "Cousin, you are a halfwit."

"I didn't know—"

"What's going on?" Cleon asked amicably. He looked slightly suspicious. "Whatever it is, it can't be good."

"Nothing," they chorused.

Cleon stared.

"Er, well—Neal, here, is looking for Kel, and, er, we—or I, rather, you can stop stepping on my foot, Merric, that would be nice—were wondering if you knew where she was."

Cleon continued to stare. "Why would I know?"

"Because we—okay, I did, there's no need for pinching—thought you two were still…you know…"

"I see," Cleon said slowly. "Well, she was on the practice courts last time I saw her."

"When was that?"

"A couple hours ago, I'd say."

"Fat lot of good that does us," Neal said dryly. "Thanks, Kennan, you've been a great help."

"Who would know where she is?" Merric inquired, purposely interrupting an irritable Cleon.

"We've asked almost everyone in the palace," Faleron grumped.

"What about Owen?" Cleon asked practically.

"He was with Margarry," Merric snickered. "And Wyldon. The Stump looked like he had an ulcer."

"Esmond?"

"A turnip knows more than he does."

"How about Alanna?"

"The dragon?" Neal snorted. "I can't think of a single instance where she ever answered any of my questions. I can't imagine this will be any different."

"There's no one else," Merric said. "Really.

"I can't even find Tobe," Neal sighed.

"Is Tobe that boy who follows her around everywhere?" Cleon asked.

"Like a hound on a leash," the older boy nodded.

"You know," Faleron said, "she could've just gone to Corus. It's not like she's the palace hermit. I'm sure she meets friends there sometimes."

"Well, who haven't we tried?" Merric asked, disregarding his cousin's explanation.

Neal brightened. "I know."

* * *

_This is the most amazing thing I've ever experienced_, Keladry thought in something akin to awe. _I never thought anything could feel so beautiful. I'm so warm_.

"How's it feel?" His voice was nothing but a quiet murmur, a little sensual.

"Incredible," she sighed, letting her head fall back. "I don't think anything's ever felt this good."

"Why don't you—what's that noise?"

"What noise?"

"I don't know, it sounds like a stampede—"

"Seaver!" Neal exclaimed, bursting through the door. "Thank the gods."

"We have been looking everywhere for someone who might know where Kel is," another voice added. "I know you just got back today, but surely you've seen her somewhere?"

Much to Kel's embarrassment, three more men followed her cursed best friend through the door—Faleron, Merric, and, of all people, Cleon. She kept very still, willing them away with her mind. At the moment, they hadn't spotted her; they had marched right through without looking around. Now their backs were to her, as they faced a very pale Seaver sitting cross-legged on the bed, and she was directly behind them—the slightest movement would have them spinning around to find her in a very awkward position.

Very awkward, indeed.

"K-Kel?" Seaver sweated. "No, I h-haven't seen her recently. Or at all. I don't see Kel. On a regular basis."

Kel rolled her eyes.

"Why, er, do you need her?"

"I need help with Yuki," Neal explained.

"I was helping him search for her," Merric added.

"I have her book," Faleron said.

"I don't _know_," Cleon said irritably. "I have no reason to follow them here, but they somehow suck you in."

"Like a black hole," Neal offered.

"What in Mithros' name is a black hole?" Merric asked in bewilderment.

"Look, you guys," Seaver interrupted, finally regaining some composure, "I really don't appreciate being barged in on like this."

"I know," Neal said apologetically. "But—well, maybe you can help."

"We're going to be here all night," Faleron muttered.

"Yuki's birthday is tomorrow," he continued, ignoring him. "I don't have the faintest idea what to get her. I've been told my poetry is lacking—"

"Lacking?" Faleron chortled. "I'm leaning toward excruciating—"

Kel stifled a giggle.

"Yes, thank you for sharing, King's Reach—"

"Just check her rooms," Seaver said, a little waspishly. "It's getting late, she's probably there by now. I'm about to go to bed. Good night."

"Should I buy her jewelry?" Neal plowed on. "She was never interested in anything like that, but—or what about clothes? Is there a kimono shop around? She's not too fond of westerner dress, you see—"

"Seaver doesn't know, either," Cleon groused. "No one knows. You're on your own. She can make do with poetry. It's not a big deal."

_Maybe it's a good thing we didn't stay together_, she thought, annoyed. _If I was going to get "pearl of my heart" and "dewdrop" every year, we wouldn't have lasted very long, anyway_.

"It is," Neal insisted. "It's her first birthday with me."

"So mote it be," Merric said solemnly.

"You think it's all a big joke, don't you?" Neal glared.

"A bit," Faleron agreed.

"Yuki is much more refined than the clods you're going to eventually wed, I'll have you know. She needs more than what a normal woman does. I have to be the one to give it to her because she won't find it anywhere else. She needs—"

Kel gave up. She was concerned that her friend would have an apoplectic fit if he continued his anxious rant. "For gods' sakes, Neal, just take her on a picnic."

He began to turn.

"A picnic? That's a pretty good idea, I never would've thought—oh, Kel, it's you—_aargh_!"

"What's wro—dear Mithros' co—"

"Cleon, Merric, don't turn around, Kel's naked—"'

"What—?"

"Why is she—"

"With _Seaver_—?"

"Are they having sex?"

"You mean _now_?"

"Yes, Merric," Faleron snapped, "at this very second."

"Obviously not now, you dolt, unless Seaver has some sort of anomaly we and the rest of the scientific world are unaware of—" _Funny_, she thought, _how Neal could make an awkward situation far more absurd than it initially began_.

Seaver had his face in his hands. What little she could see was beet-red.

"Stop it, you guys," Kel ordered. "You're overreacting. You can't actually see anything."

"Neal and Faleron said you were naked," Merric said plaintively.

For some odd reason, they all had covered their faces with their hands, despite the fact their backs were already to her. She wondered why they didn't just leave._That would be too easy_, Kel thought, half-exasperated, half-amused.

"I am," she admitted. She assumed she was going to be embarrassed, but found she was just aggravated. She didn't think her nudity would cause that much of a stir. "But I assure you, you can't see anything from your angle."

She watched as Faleron slowly turned, risking a glance through his fingers. "She's right. You can't."

Reluctantly, as though they didn't really want to but were somehow pulled by powers greater than them, the other three turned as well. All of them looked absolutely mortified. Kel pictured herself as they must see her: sitting in a tub much smaller than her, brimming with steaming water. Her legs were draped over the side, her toes neatly touching the floor. It was a cramped space for someone of her bulk, so she was forced to draw her knees up, which coincidentally shielded the more significant parts of her person. She had a book propped up on her knees that she had been half-heartedly reading prior to their intrusion.

The most they could see was her legs, arms, shoulders and head; that was why Seaver liked it when she soaked in his basin. He said it was the knowledge that she was naked, but that he couldn't see anything. She thought it sounded a tad silly, but she indulged him, anyway—sometimes he washed her back. And sometimes he did more. But she was positive now was not the time to think about that.

"I can't believe what I'm seeing," Merric muttered.

"I can't believe you're looking," Neal snapped. His eyes were shut tight.

Merric was squinting at her, as though ready to shut his eyes again. Maybe he thought she was going to leap out at them.

The image made her let out a strangled sounding snort.

"Are you laughing?" Cleon said, flabbergasted. "This is not a laughing matter at all."

"Why are you still here?" Faleron asked him.

"Why are _you_ still here?"

"I'm not married."

"Why are any of you still here?" Seaver finally bellowed.

"There's a naked woman in a washtub," Faleron said blandly.

"It's _Kel_," Merric blurted, sounding revolted. "She's sexless."

She decided not to take offense.

"_Get_—_out_—"

"Okay, Tasride, we're going—"

"And don't say anything to anyone."

"Definitely not—"

They practically fell over themselves on their way out. Seaver looked livid, which was quite a feat. By nature, he was a quiet person. She found that she rather liked this rarely-seen side of him.

"How could you let them see you like this?" he accused. "And the fact that they didn't leave—the nerve of them—"

Kel tucked away a smile. Right now she had to concentrate on soothing him.

It didn't take long. Of course, she had to move to the bed; there simply wasn't enough room in the tub for the both of them.

* * *

"Nothing feels better than a hot bath in winter," Esmond said cheerfully, his hair damp from his own washing, as he took a seat next to Neal the next morning.

Cleon accidentally knocked his goblet over.

"Please don't talk," he asked politely.

Esmond eyed him, then shrugged. "By the way, does anyone know why Seaver wanted my extra-large tub? He didn't give me many details—something about his was getting cramped, or something—"

"Esmond," Faleron roared, "shut up!"

Merric debated on asking why Esmond would have an extra-large tub to begin with, but after a glance at Faleron's rather crazed grip on his fork, he decided to save _that_ question for another day.

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**I feel like a total Esmond basher hahaha. Even though I love him just fine. **


	3. Wanderings

**Oh my gosh, an update, I know. Haha. Anyway, I tried something new with this, in the sense that I wrote it from someone other than Kel's point of view, and I will never do it again. It was not fun and Kel had a minimum part, for all that it was about her. So for my next chapter, I will go back to my original format, and I promise it will be better! Anyway, this is dedicated to ****Alicegirl****, if you're still out there!**

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Alanna rolled her head around on her shoulders and heard the satisfying pop of her neck tendons. Nothing could relieve the discomfort in her back, however. _Goddess, I'm getting old_, she thought with a sigh. _Traveling never used to be so cursed bothersome_. As an afterthought, she added, _Or maybe it's my companions that are getting more bothersome_.

She chanced a look over her shoulder, just in time to see her former squire dump a cup of feed down the back of Nicoline's shirt. A squabble broke out and the younger boy tried desperately to slap Nealan with the flat of his sword. Neither of their horses took kindly to this. She shook her head and turned back to brushing down Darkmoon. It was much easier on her indigestion if she remained oblivious. Only Neal would be foolish enough to dither about the stables. _The only one with any sense around here is Keladry_, she thought with pride. _A perfect level-headed leader. And so tall!_

"Copper for your thoughts," a voice said quietly to her left.

Alanna smiled wryly and murmured, "I'm jealous. I would've loved to have had Keladry as my squire for four years."

Raoul snorted, his snapping black eyes eyeing her over his big destrier, and said, "You'd have had to pry her from my cold dead hands. I wouldn't have taken that Queenscove for all the gold in the king's treasury."

"He wasn't so bad," she allowed. "He slept a lot."

In unison, they both glanced back. Kel was wagging a finger at Neal as she spoke to him, and he smiled shamelessly and—or so he probably thought—winningly.

"There is no help for him," she said, resigned.

He did not disagree.

She hoped Thom was back from the university. George was good enough company, but with Alan back at the palace and Alianne fussing over her crow-babies, the silence at the Swoop was almost unbearable. But George had only mildly remarked he had not seen Thom, which could either mean he had yet to arrive or that the boy had just secluded himself in his workroom. He loved the magic, just like his namesake, bless him.

"I still think Corus was closer," Neal said loudly. "We could've been there in the same time it took us to get here."

"Don't be ridiculous," Kel said. "Pirate's Swoop was much closer."

"I'm sorry, but I don't seem to recall geography being one of your better subjects."

"I'm sorry, but I seem to remember Kel doing your geography assignments nonetheless."

"You're impossible," Neal told Esmond. Turning to Kel, he said, "Sometimes I think you should have married Cleon anyway."

Well, that was certainly unexpected. Alanna half-pivoted to say something and thought better at it. She also tactfully decided not to laugh at Raoul's ferocious scowl, directed at his innocent curry comb. She was quite familiar with his vendetta against that big redheaded lad. It was an oft-heard grumble throughout the years, if only because he was protective of his helpless little squire-daughter. Helpless, indeed. _Pah_.

"It's a shame, how it happened," Neal said mournfully.

Alanna knew that tone. She would have bet the deed to the Swoop that he was about to say something very rude, or very stupid.

Or both.

"It's not a shame," Kel said, surprised. "We're still friends."

"Ah," he said sagely, "but you're deprived, Mindelan. You're not getting good and bed—"

Whatever he was about to say—and she had an idea—Kel cut him off with a resounding _smack_ that had Alanna nodding approvingly. She slanted a look at Raoul and bit her tongue to suppress a chuckle.

"Keladry," she said instead, "pay him no mind. Queenscove, I believe you have some swordsmanship to prove to me."

With a grin of satisfaction, she heard an audible gulp behind her.

Once the horses were well taken care of, Alanna led her guests to her fortress for a good meal and, finally, bed. George wouldn't stop toasting everyone—a bit too far in his merry cups, bless him—and by the time she managed to usher the three knights away, they were all but swaying on their feet. Alanna herself could not get to her chambers fast enough, and smiled indulgently at George, snoring and quite naked, sprawled all over their bed. She slipped in next to him and snuggled down, preparing for a beautiful sleep.

Four bells later, Alanna was still painfully wide awake. The Goddess had never been a cruel mistress, but she was certainly toying with her now. As it had become obvious she wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon, she kicked off the covers and sat up. George snuffled and rolled over. She glared at him. _I wonder how many people will miss him if I just...ah, never mind. I need fresh air_.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed with a groan. Out of habit, she grabbed her scabbard and buckled it around her hips and sheathed her sword. She stole out of her chambers stealthily.

The corridor was quiet and dark, but she knew every step in Pirate's Swoop. The stone floor was cool to her feet. Alanna took a right down a long passage. A flight of stairs led up to the guest chambers, where Kel and Queenscove and that Nicoline fellow were housed. She was passing them, on her way to the balcony, when she heard a quiet sound that barely resonated from upstairs.

_Thud_.

Immediately, Alanna went on high alert. In her youth, she had dealt with the likes of Duke Roger of Conte. Suspicion was ingrained in her head; it was what kept her and her friends alive all those years ago. George was passed out back in their chambers, her children were not home, and her guests—well, certainly they would be too exhausted to be up. That left...what?

An intruder?

She grasped the hilt of her sword and quietly sidled up the stairs. It was pitch-black but her footing was sure. She reached the landing and paused, quivering with tension. There was nothing there.

Embarrassed and disgusted, Alanna went to sheathe her sword—when there was another thump and a colorful curse from down the corridor.

Without hesitation, she rushed toward the noise, preparing to ambush whoever was there. She didn't intend to kill. No, she wanted to question the foolish soul who thought to burglarize the den of the Lioness.

Unfortunately, she miscalculated. Alanna crashed headfirst into someone big and unyielding; they both stumbled with yells and tumbled to the ground. Her sword clattered out of reach. She rolled over on the intruder, hoping her weight would be enough to keep him down. Instead, her opponent grabbed her around the head, effectively putting her in a headlock, and struggled upward.

Alanna cursed and fought, but the arms that bound her were as strong as a blacksmith's. So, she resorted to the only thing she could do.

She bit him.

Whoever it was let out a yelp like a girl and cursed, releasing her. Alanna stumbled forward, wheeled, and lunged blindly. She tackled him head on, flattening him to the ground and straddling him.

"You think you can come into my home without consequence?" she yelled furiously. "You cur, I'll cut you, I'll thrash you so soundly you won't be able to fu—"

"Alanna," a familiar voice panted, "_wait_—"

"What in the name of the Black God's Holy Name is going on?"

And suddenly there was light. Alanna blinked, staring down at Keladry's flushed face. She glanced over her shoulder to see Raoul peering at them in bewilderment, holding a torch.

"Great gods," he said blankly. "I thought the fortress was falling down around my ears."

She glanced back down at Kel.

"Whatsitchurfloop—" a voice mumbled incoherently behind the door beside them. It opened, and Neal regarded them with bleary eyes. "Cannons, eh? Well, I always figured those damn Carthakers would double-cross us. Cut off their braids, I always said."

He glanced agreeably around, then spotted Alanna mounted on Kel and blinked. "This isn't quite the dream I had in mind," he muttered, and closed the door.

"Alanna," Raoul murmured, looking very much like he was holding in laughter. "Keladry. Pray tell, what are you _doing_? Is this what lady knights do? It's no wonder your lot went extinct."

Alanna cough and tried to remove herself from Kel as gracefully as possible. She knew she failed when Raoul stared very pointedly at their bare legs. Neither of them were wearing breeches.

"I thought she was an intruder," she sniffed. "I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk. I heard a noise and I thought...well, I thought there was a threat."

"It never occurred to you that it could be a guest?" he asked politely. "There are, after all, the guest chambers."

She colored, but lifted her chin and said haughtily, "You were all so tired, I just assumed no one would be awake." She rounded on Kel, who was self-consciously smoothing her nightshirt over her thighs. "Which leads me to the question, what were _you_ doing up?"

For some reason, a very bright flush seemed to be creeping up Kel's neck. She cleared her throat and said, "I couldn't sleep. Either. Like you. So I was just walking. To the stairs."

Alanna and Raoul stared at her.

Suddenly the door swung open. "Oh good gods," Neal exclaimed, sticking his head out again, this time very much awake, "it wasn't a dream. You really are outside my door...although I seem to remember Alanna and Kel—"

"Alanna attacked Kel because she thought she was an intruder," Raoul explained. "Neither of them could sleep."

"That's a lie," Neal snorted, "because I fell asleep to Kel's snores. I could hear them through the damn walls."

The three knights blinked, and turned to Kel, who was now painted scarlet. "Something woke me up—" she began.

"Kel," a sleep voice called, "did you find the pudding okay?"

Kel hunched her shoulders as they all turned to flight of stairs at the other end of the corridor.

Armed with nothing more than a torch, Thom perched on the bottom step, looking perplexedly out at them in the blissful ignorance of not-quite-wakefulness. Most importantly, he was naked as a jay-bird.

_Something woke her up, indeed_, Alanna thought, mystified.

"Alanna..." Raoul inquired, "why is your eldest child naked?"

"Better yet," Neal said, horrified, "why is he asking Kel about pudding?"

There was a very long silence.

"Thom," Alanna began, although she had no idea what she was going to say.

"Kel," Neal choked, pointing an accusing finger at her. "You—you—you—you!"

She was doing a laudable job on maintaining that Yamani Mask of hers, although little could be done about the glowing red blush.

"It's not what you think," she blurted. "I really have no idea what he means by pudding."

Raoul rubbed his nose, stumped.

"So, Thom," Alanna said desperately. "I see you're back from the university."

Neal stared at her.

"I arrived a couple days ago," Thom said conversationally. "I thought Da would have told you..."

"He said he hadn't seen you. I thought that meant you weren't here..."

"Thom," interjected Neal, "why is Kel getting pudding?"

"Pudding?" Thom said, vaguely surprised. "I don't like pudding. Which reminds me, have you seen Kel?"

Even Kel stared at him.

"Gods," Alanna suddenly laughed, "he's sleepwalking again."

"Sleepwalking?" Raoul sputtered. "This is the most bizarre sleepwalking adventure I've ever witnessed."

"Well, if you see Kel," Thom said, waving at them dismissively, "tell her I'd like my clothes back. She's always running off with them. I think she took my shirt this time. And make sure she doesn't forget the pudding."

In unison, they glanced over at Kel, who staunchly watched Thom retreat back up the stairs.

"Well, this has gotten too strange for me," Raoul announced after a moment. "As far as I'm concerned, what happens at the Swoop, stays at the Swoop." He said to Kel sternly, "We will either talk about this very soon, or never again. I haven't decided yet."

He shut the door behind him.

It was very quiet.

"I'm not entirely sure where my door is," Neal said, "as Raoul took the torch with him, but I'm going to find a bed and sleep in it. And Kel," he added dangerously, "this is not over."

There was a minute or two of fumbling and curses before Neal finally managed to find the handle.

That left Alanna and Kel alone.

Finally, Alanna began awkwardly, "Just so you know, I'm sorry I tackled you and led you into this. If I had known about you and Thom...well, certainly I would have approved. I do approve, of course. I think it's lovely. I mean, I know you and Thom aren't talking of marriage—or are you...?—ah, well, regardless, you have my blessing. And George's, too. I'm sure he'd be pleased. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

No reply.

"Kel?" she ventured.

Still, there was nothing.

"Kel," she said loudly. "Are you still here?"

She listened very hard. To her embarrassment, there wasn't a sound.

"Well, you little sneak," she said to no one. "I don't believe it. You've gone upstairs, haven't you?"

"And talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity," Neal's muffled voice yelled grumpily from his chambers. "For gods' sakes, go to sleep!"

* * *

"Neal, I had the weirdest dream about Alanna and Kel last night—"

"This may surprise you," Neal told Esmond, "but under no circumstances do I want to hear it."

"Well, fine," Esmond said irritably, biting into a piece of bacon.

Relieved, Raoul went back to buttering his toast.

"By the way," Esmond continued, "what happened to the pudding? There was an entire bowl left and the whole thing was gone this morn—_mmph_—"

He gagged on a piece of buttered toast that was unceremoniously shoved into his mouth.

* * *

**Yes, I really am sorry that you waited practically a year for this. Sad face. But I have some great ideas for the next installments (thanks to all my reviewers - I am using every situation and character that is requested!) and I will try to do better. Thanks for everyone's support!**

**Note: Today is June 8, 2010 - I did slight revisions to the format, nothing more. I just wanted to let everyone who's reading this that I will be updating this summer; I'm so sorry to everyone who's been waiting so long for updates!**


	4. Cinderella

**Can you believe it's been over a year since I updated? :O I'm very sorry to those who waited, and the reviewers I lost. I hope this continues to meet your standards. :) Dedicated to danceee15, whose idea this was.**

* * *

"...and then she said, 'You don't put the fan _there_,'" Faleron chortled, following his friend into her room. "Mindelan, your Yamani friends are just hilarious."

Kel, who had no idea what the first half of his story was, and wasn't sure she wanted to know anyway, said, "Thank you?"

He threw himself down on her bed and she winced as it groaned dangerously. _My mattress can't take much more_, she thought resignedly._ At this rate I'll have to buy another one soon_. She said, "Faleron, I have to change. I'll meet you back at the mess hall."

He raised his eyebrows. "What, no peek?"

She fought down her amusement as she scowled and scolded, "Your mother should've washed your mind out with soap instead of your mouth."

"Maybe Mama didn't raise me so polite after all," he drawled, and yelped as the hurled boot found its mark. "All right, all right, I'm going. No need to get abusive—unless of course that's how you li—ow, Kel, okay, I'm leaving!"

With her hands on her hips, Kel glared at Faleron as he rolled off her bed. He carefully smoothed the wrinkles out of his tunic, combed his fingers through his hair, frowned as he plucked at his hose, until finally Kel half-giggled, "Just get out, you dolt. I have to change. And no, you don't get a peek!"

"What?"

Kel barely stifled a sigh as her best friend peered around the door in disbelief. "Kel, why are you letting Faleron peek at you?"

"I'm not," she said in exasperation. Faleron snickered. "I said he _didn't_ get a peek."

"Faleron's peeking at Kel?" another voice behind Neal exclaimed. "But what's there to look at?"

That proved too much for them; catching sight of her face, they crumpled in laughter. The door opened wider to reveal Merric's smirking face. She pointed a finger at him.

"That," she accused, "was inappropriate. All of you, out. You can annoy me at supper. It's only an hour away. You can last that long, right?"

"I suppose we can try," Neal sighed dramatically, but he was already backing out of the door.

"Maybe you can clean up a little, too," Faleron joked, bending over to scoop up a discarded pair of trousers. "I mean really, didn't you ever learn how to put your clothes away?"

"Like you ever did," Merric said, rolling his eyes.

"Mithros, Kel, what do you do, suck it all in? These are tiny."

Neal frowned. "Are you calling her fa—Kel, these are only inches around. You can't possibly fit these."

Now Merric joined them as they stood in a circle, eyeing the small-waisted pair of breeches Faleron was holding doubtfully out in front of him. He scratched his nose and said, "They're right. I couldn't fit these, either."

There was a moment of silence.

"Kel..." Neal said slowly, an odd expression on his face. "Are—are these even yours?"

"Of course they are," she said in exasperation. "Why would someone else's breeches be in my—"

"Put them on."

"What?"

"Put them on."

"Yeah, if they're yours, then prove it."

"I don't have to prove they're mine. And I'm certainly not going to do it with you watching."

"Oh, come on, Kel, we've grown up with you. We don't care about your long, luscious legs—"

"Not now, Faleron. Our Kel has a man's trousers in her rooms."

"I am not 'your Kel.' And those _are_ mine."

"Then put them on."

"I'm not—"

"Because they're not yours," Neal accused. "They're a man's. You've had a trouser-less man in your room. I bet he was shirtless, too."

Faleron coughed politely. "I'll be the voice of reason here and say perhaps Kel just wanted motivation to lose weight? You know, maybe her goal is to fit in them."

She resisted the urge to strangle him.

"Whose are they? Come on. Be honest. We know they're not yours."

"I think," Kel said, "that it is none of your business."

Neal stared at her for a moment. Then, surprisingly, he said, "Fine. That's fine."

She eyed him warily.

He continued innocently, "I'll just make everyone else try them on—and then we'll know exactly who it is!"

"What—Neal, _no_—"

"That's a great idea," Merric said, impressed. "Neal, for once in your life, you've made yourself useful."

"It is _not_ a great idea at all—"

"Are we in agreement it's not any of us?" Faleron asked. "We may be lean, trim, and handsome, but none of us are skinny, right?"

"Boys, if you actually go through with this, so help me I will—"

"Let's go!"

"_Neal_!"

—-

"Try them on."

"I—"

"Try them on."

Seaver shrank away from the look in Faleron's eyes, and Kel tried once again to snatch the trousers away. He yanked them out of reach and shoved them back in Seaver's face. She emphasized with the violated look on his face.

"Wait a minute," Merric interrupted. "Look at the trouser legs—they're much too long to be his. He's too short."

"Well, you're one to talk," Seaver said irritably.

Kel reached for them again, and this time Faleron stuffed them down his own trousers. It created a very large bulge that made her vaguely uncomfortable.

"Want them now?" he asked archly.

—-

"Ask her."

"You ask her."

"Neal, she was _your_ knight-mistress—_you_ ask her."

"Say, Kel—"

"No. Can I have them back, please?"

Neal sighed, pulling his head back around the corner. "There's no point," he decided. "The Lioness is much too short for these—" he gestured broadly at Faleron's crotch, "—and she's not exactly the trimmest bush in the hedge anymore, if you get what I—"

"Queenscove," a voice said ominously, "did you just call me fat?"

He gulped loudly as the others moved away. Alanna stood right behind him with her hands on her hips, her expression murderous.

"Of course not," he scoffed with forced merriment. "You know that you're a—"

"I don't want to hear it," she interrupted, holding up her hand. "But I know you're up to some kind of trouble. Keladry, can't you talk some sense into him?"

"I've tried, Lioness," Kel sighed. "It's no use."

"Why are you all out here, anyway, sneaking about like night-creatures? You look suspicious."

Involuntarily, Kel glanced at Faleron's crotch, where the trousers were stuffed. Alanna looked there as well, and blinked.

"Never mind," she sighed. "Queenscove, what did you used to say—ignorance is bliss?"

—-

"Neal," Kel said, "for the last time—it is _not_ Garvey."

But that didn't quell the feverish glint in his eye. "I know it is," he said in a low voice. "You and him—you've always had a thing for each other, haven't you?"

"You've gotten to get over this obsession with Garvey," Faleron said solemnly. "It's unhealthy."

"It's not an 'obsession...' Oh, look at him sitting there, watching the squires fence. What a creep."

"He's looking for a squire," Merric said in exasperation. "Let him be. Besides, he's obviously too fat to fit in them."

Neal didn't look placated, and he sent one last evil look at Garvey before following them away. At least Faleron had taken the trousers out.

—

"I give up," Neal sighed. "No one seems tall enough and lean enough to fit these damn trousers. Faleron, you might as well give them back."

Kel snatched the trousers out of Faleron's hands, glowering at him. "How kind of you."

"Oh," someone said. "You've found my trousers."

Three heads whipped around to stare, and Kel cleared her throat, reluctantly turning around as well.

"Master Numair," she said as blandly as possible, "it is good to see you."

Numair's lips twitched. "Indeed."

Merric and Faleron were whispering furiously with each other. Apparently, Neal could do nothing more than stare with a slack jaw. Tall and stork-thin, the man fit the description. Or the trousers, for that matter.

"I was just coming to find you, actually," Numair continued blithely. He accepted the wadded trousers from her and tucked them under his arm. "Daine wanted to invite you for supper in our rooms, if you would like to join us."

Kel cleared her throat again and struggled harder for a casual voice. "I'd like that."

"Excellent." He turned to leave, and as strode away, he called over his shoulder, "We've also found your shirt."

There was a long, strained silence at his departure. She tried very hard to look everywhere but at her companions.

"I," Faleron began, and then stopped.

Neal passed a hand over his eyes, lips moving. She suspected he was praying.

"Well," Merric finally said, "we did want to know."

"Yes, but I didn't want to know that," Neal snapped. "This is—weird. He's so—old. And he's—Numair."

"His trousers," Faleron said in horror, "were touching my—they were—_ugh_!"

Merric clapped him on his shoulder. "We live in awkward times, my friend," he said gravely. "Wait, Kel—where do you think you're going?"

"Well," she said, turning to walk backwards, "I have to get my shirt, don't I?"

—-

"Master Numair must be working on one serious spell," Esmond commented as he slid his trencher beside Faleron. "His room is right above mine, and all I can hear is this crazy thumping noise."

"Esmond," Merric sighed, closing his eyes, "not now."

"I'm serious, though, Numair's working _hard_ on something—"

Neal groaned and pinched his nose. "Sometimes," he said, "I have this overwhelming need to hurt you."

* * *

**Please review! And keep in mind, for those who are reading this for the first time, that this is just a bit of silliness, and I understand the implausibility of it all.**


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